and many others undoubtedly were, we can explain this matter to them precisely. When the Author wrote concurrently, he began to write as soon as the transactions appeared to assume sufficient importance; when he wrote subsequently, he selected those transactions only, of which he remembered all the facts as well as peculiar expressions and sentiments, both of his own, and of the persons with whom he conversed. These expressions and sentiments, he called his landmarks; by reflecting upon them, he replaced himself in the same position in which he had been when they were uttered; by degrees he was wrought up into the same feelings, and fell into the same train of thought and argument; and then he had nothing to do but to fill up the intervals, which he probably accomplished without much deviation from the original scene, or, at least, without violating the rules which he mentions in his own preface.

In the recollection of remarkable facts and expressions, he was often materially assisted by our excellent mother; for it was his constant practice to relate everything of that kind to her on the very day of its occurrence, and her memory was tenacious. The mention of this recalls the circumstances of the

first story which he wrote, and which he entitled Parental Anger.' Upon his return from visiting poor old Mr. Broom, he described to her almost immediately the scene in which he had been engaged. It interested her exceedingly; it was short besides; so she pressed him to commit it to paper at once. He had a great antipathy to the manual labour of writing, and on that ground had refused the same request on other occasions; but now, the labour being so small, he was ashamed to refuse any longer. Accordingly, he wrote the story on the covers of letters, not having the most distant idea of ever writing another. It was afterwards copied out upon a fair sheet by one of us, and it is the only story which has had so much trouble bestowed upon it. From that time he wrote always upon the same sheets that have gone to the printer, once for all; and therefore, perhaps, we may justly claim for him the indulgence of a candid criticism.

The reader will now be able to form some judgment of his own, how far he may depend upon these stories. Some persons, as we understand, have declared them to be entirely fictitious; and even eminent clergymen, speaking of them in the most courteous terms, are reported to have said, that they

themselves have not been so fortunate as to meet with any such cases in the course of their own experience. Our only answer shall be to tell them what happened to one of Dr. Warton's curates. He had read the stories in manuscript, and doubted, we believe, whether such conversations ever really occurred; but Dr. Warton being confined by a long sickness, and the whole business of visitation devolving upon this zealous young clergyman, he soon discovered that he had full scope for the employment of every process detailed in those manuscripts. And we remember very well, with what great pleasure our beloved father, unable to stir out himself, received this testimony almost daily from the mouth of his

curate.

Thus then, for the present, we take our leave.

DEATH-BED SCENES.

CHAPTER I.

MR. MARSDEN-OBDURACY.

§ 1. The Marsdens.

As I was returning home one day from my morning's walk, through the main street of the village, one of our apothecaries ran from his house across the way, and stopped me, to mention to me the extraordinary case of Mr. Marsden, who, as he affirmed, was fast approaching his latter end. This Mr. Marsden was a shopkeeper, in a good way of business; and having plenty of money at command, he resorted continually to the ale-house and gin-shop, and thus reduced himself to the hopeless condition in which he now lay. "But what is extraordinary," said Mr. Benson, "is this: you might suppose that such a man would be glad to live as long as possible; far from it, however; for if so, he would be glad, also, of medical help; but I can never get at him, to do any thing for him, except by stratagem or by force. To-day, I have failed in both those methods; and the man, being left to himself, will certainly die very soon, however unfit he may be for it. And now I have told you this fact, and the undoubted speedy consequence, I leave the rest to yourself. You will do what is right, I know." "I will go to him this very

VOL. III.

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